Savior
by Lyaksandra
Summary: Cameron works hard to allay the worries and boost the confidence of the future savior of humanity. At least in her own mind.


**SAVIOR**

The sun was already high up in the sky when John Connor began stirring in his bed. With the end of the school year had come vacation time, and one of the perks was that he could sleep in through the early morning and wake up practically whenever he wanted. Certain limitations by his mother applied, of course. However, that was exactly what was going to make today one of the best days for being lazy and free of worries. His mother had gone out along with his uncle to bury a weapons cache. Just finding a good spot was probably going to take them most of the day.

Even though he was not sleepy anymore, he refused to let go of the warmth and softness of his bed. An incoherent mumble escaped his mouth while he clung to his pillow and rolled to and fro across the mattress. Already he could feel in the back of his mind that this was going to be a great day.

A few minutes went by before John decided that he had smothered his pillow with needy hugs enough for one day. Unfortunately, when he finally opened his eyes and became aware of his surroundings, his prediction of a great day went right out the window. Along with a rather feminine cry of surprise at seeing Cameron standing beside his door staring at him.

Once he managed to calm down a little, he saw that for some reason she was holding an M4A1 carbine in the port arms position while standing completely rigid. A sigh escaped him. Could there be any way to spare himself from whatever lunacy was going through Cameron's head? There was only one way to know, and that was confronting her. Maybe.

He covered his eyes and used one hand to signal toward the carbine unenthusiastically.

"What's going on? Care to explain?"

"I'm on guard duty, sir!" she declared with by-the-book military intensity.

Sir? Guard duty? He sighed. This was going to be a long day indeed. Maybe he could just ignore her and salvage the rest of it. Yeah, ignoring her had worked before. Luckily for him, Cameron had a tendency of fading into the background.

"Whatever," he said with annoyance as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was time to get some breakfast.

Sarah Connor being out of the house meant that he could eat whatever he wanted, and that meant the biggest sandwich he could come up with using all the cold cuts he could dig out of the fridge. Lettuce, tomato, pickles, mayo, mustard. It was going to be heavenly.

Half an hour later, John was leaving the kitchen with a satisfied grin stretched over his face. Breakfast had indeed been heavenly. Luckily enough Cameron had been nowhere to be seen before, during, or after, and he had been free to enjoy his meal.

When he came up the stairs, however, he immediately found her there. The moment she saw him, her face morphed into an expression of joy and she began shouting at the top of her non-existent lungs.

"John Connor! John Connor!" On and on it went like a chant.

What the heck?! This entire situation was beginning its incursion into the realm of the twilight zone. He really needed to bump the ignoring to the next level if he hoped to have any chance against her.

This time he did not even bother saying anything and opted for simply walking past her. It did not do him a lot of good. Cameron began moving along with him, and when he risked a quick side-glance, John saw that she had added fist pumping to her energetic chanting. He quickened his pace, but his room was at the end of the hallway, and in his currently exasperated mind it seemed like a mile's walk. His door could not come into view soon enough.

Once at his room, John turned toward Cameron and gave her his most intimidating glance. If she dared come inside after him, there was going to be a reckoning. What was he going to do to her? Who knew? It was not like he could even annoy her, as she was doing to him, but he had to make a stand. The line was going to be drawn at the threshold of this door and no further. Fortunately, Cameron got the point he tried to get across, which was something practically unheard of. She stopped chanting and turned around to walk toward her own room without another word.

John closed the door and locked it before going to drop heavily on his bed. He was not actually tired, but the food and the soft comfort of the mattress drew a yawn from him. Well, was there any point in resisting nature? Especially now that he could go with the flow? If there was one thing better than a hearty meal, it was taking a nap after a hearty meal. He scooted over toward the headrest so his feet would not dangle away from the edge, and allowed sleep to overcome him.

When he woke up for the second time in the same day, which was absolutely awesome, he did not see Cameron anywhere in his room. Perhaps the day was starting to pick up. He yawned long and deep, stretched his limbs while still lying down, and then sat on the edge of the bed. It was time to take a shower. Before going to the bathroom, he went around the room yawning, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head as he collected some clean clothes to use afterward. As nice as naps were, they had that way of making you feel kind of tired and sleepy afterward. In a nice way, though. Most of the time, anyway.

He never did get to the bathroom, because just outside his door was Cameron waiting for him. Without any warning, she suddenly clung to him, babbling nervously against his chest.

"Mister General John Connor, sir." She pushed away from him, sobbing and looking for all the world like she was very distressed. "Thank you for saving me!"

What the hell was up with all the titles? Now he was really confused. What was up with the damsel in distress act? More importantly, why was Cameron wearing tattered clothes? Her voice interrupted his thoughts then.

"I don't know how to thank you enough, sir. But I want to, because am really grateful, mister. And I don't got nothing much to give, and what I have you probably don't want or need. But I want you to know am willing if you ever do."

She looked bashful, nervous, shy, the skin of her cheeks and her ears were as red as a tomato. John gulped, already sensing unconsciously where this bizarre act was going. Lo and behold, in the blink of an eye Cameron shed away those ratty clothes she got who knows where, and stood completely naked in front of him. Her eyes wavered between his and the floor, her face completely turned to one side, as if unable to face him.

John, for his part, was frozen in place. Laid bare before him were miles of unblemished and perfectly human-looking skin. Before today, if asked, John Connor would have answered that Terminators did not grow body hair. Well, apparently they did. At least down there. Between their legs. Also, Skynet made the curtains match the rug. What attention to detail! He gulped again.

Cameron took a step toward him. John finally allowed himself to take a breath, albeit short and shallow. Honestly, it had been more like a little gasp.

"Sir?" she asked, both her face and her voice full of something like fear and… and something else he could not really place. Longing? Expectation? Yes, expectation. Damn, this was bad. He had to do something before this situation escalated and it was too late and his mom crucified him with help from Derek.

His mind began running off the rails when a warm, soft body pressed against him, with all its curves making themselves perfectly clear on every one of the now flaring nerves of his skin. His clothes, the useless things, were doing nothing to insulate him from the sensorial onslaught. This was bad. A small, feminine hand came up to the side of his face and caressed it with dainty fingers. This was really bad.

By some manner of miracle, from the depths of common sense and years of training to be a soldier, John's willpower managed to surface. Aided in no small amount by a healthy dose of fear of his mother.

"Wait! Hold on a minute!" he choked out as he pushed Cameron away.

In response, she looked at him with huge, guileless eyes. Ah, crap, she was pushing all his buttons.

"If you don't…" he began, but his voice was barely audible even to him. After clearing his throat, he began anew. "If you don't explain to me, concisely and in layman's terms, what is it that you've been doing today, I'm ordering you to stay in your room."

Her face transformed back into the pleasant mask of calmness she usually wore. The change in expression was quite a contrast, but John was used to her pulling these kinds of things, so it did not faze him in the slightest.

"I don't feel like a savior at all!" John heard his own voice coming out of her enticing lips. Enticing lips? Where the heck did that come from? And did he always sound so whiny? No wonder his mom always pushed him so hard.

"Have I succeeded in making you feel like one?" Cameron deadpanned a second later.

**FIN**


End file.
